My Thighs

By Juliana Taliaferro

They may go down in history
for their gigantic size.
I may exercise until I hurt,
but still, like lard, my thighs!

Does their chubbiness delight you?
Must you laugh like you were smashed?
'Cause I walk like I've got saddlebags
That are surgically attached.

Just like yeasty rising dough
expanding to twice its size,
all dimpled, white and jiggly:
Ugh! My thighs!

Would you rather see me slender,
with my legs so long and lithe
and a shapely turn of ankle?
Believe me, so would I!

Does their wide girth make you giggle?
You shouldn't laugh so hard,
'cause it looks like you are stowing
baggage in your own backyard.

I may try liposuction
or diet until I die.
I may do step aerobics,
but still, so fat, my thighs!

Are you humored by the friction
of the rubbing of my thighs?
Do you fear I'll start combusting
right before your very eyes?

Peeking out from the edge of cut-off shorts:
My thighs
Flaring up from calves that look like storks:
My thighs
I'm a beached whale, washed in by the tide.
Stuck in the mud, 'cause my rear end's too wide.

Leaving behind dreams of corduroy,
My thighs
Soft talcum powder - their only joy,
My thighs
These are the genes my ancestors gave:
stout trunks that take many hours to shave.
My thighs
My thighs
My thighs!


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